


So That Went Well

by Bedalk05



Series: Free Me [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Still a Witcher, Getting Together, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23879245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bedalk05/pseuds/Bedalk05
Summary: Jaskier brings Geralt to the elvish hideout. Things go as well as can be expected.Pulling out a knife Geralt braces himself for another attack but soon finds a body thrown before him. Before he can shove the foolish elf away from him Jaskier calls out with annoyance, “Renfri, what have I said about ‘ask first shoot later’?”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Free Me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719700
Comments: 14
Kudos: 158





	So That Went Well

**Author's Note:**

> This is Part 2 of the series so I suggest reading Part 1 if you haven't. Enjoy!

“Welcome to our humble abode,” Jaskier announces with a dramatic spread of his arms. Spinning around to face Geralt, he begins walking backwards through the darkened tunnel with not even a torch to light the way. 

It’s been a few days since Geralt’s mission went completely sideways and he made the impulsive decision to upend his life. However, he can’t find himself regretting his choice. Of course, it’s not as simple as dropping his ties to the government and going underground. So after discreetly making a copy of the Drowner’s thumbdrive and sliding it to Jaskier, Geralt reported back to MI6 like the loyal prisoner he was. 

Naturally, he was still beaten for his troubles since his mission went longer than it was supposed to and he had turned off his communicator again. What can he say? It just happened to slip and fall into his drink at the ball. Completely coincidentally of course. Besides, it was a good thing he did so, otherwise there would have been some extra torture in store while they questioned him on what happened in the hotel. 

When Geralt met Jaskier at their agreed upon rendezvous under a bridge, Jaskier’s mouth dropped in shock as he took in the state of his face. Reaching up to gently trace the eye that was sealed shut and his purple jaw, he let out a hurt noise. “What did they do to you?” he breathed. 

Shrugging, Geralt grunted, “Nothing that they haven’t done before.” A shiver shot down Geralt’s spine as Jaskier’s eyes lit up with a fierce fire. 

Gripping Geralt’s face he brought it down so they touched foreheads. “I swear I will free you from this Geralt,” he choked out before claiming Geralt’s lips. Freezing in shock, it took a moment for Geralt to melt into the elf’s embrace, wrapping his arms around him to tug him close. 

By the gods, he believed him. Never has anyone other than his brothers and Vesemir expressed any sense of care or concern for him. Yet here stands a man he barely knows who is promising him everything and touching him with such tenderness. This was utterly foreign and Geralt barely knew how to handle it. 

So instead of grappling with the confused emotions raging within him, Geralt sunk deeper into the kiss, consuming Jaskier’s mouth hungrily. Eventually, they parted and Geralt’s knees grew weak at the heated gaze shot at him. “I wasn’t sure if you would want to do that since we both technically slept with each other as a means to an end,” Jaskier laughed. 

Shaking his head incredulously Geralt inquired, “Then why take the chance?” Raising his eyebrows, Jaskier slowly raked his gaze up and down Geralt’s body, making him feel utterly exposed. “You seem worth it,” he finally said with a dirty smirk and a wink. 

*******

So now Geralt finds himself following this elusive, enthralling creature as he sings a raunchy tune through the sewers of London. Because, oh right, the resistance is in the _fucking sewers._ He is still reeling from the tenderness Jaskier had shown, but finds it tempered by the heated glances he keeps shooting the Witcher. 

Jaskier’s attire wasn’t helping Geralt keep his libido under control though. It was odd seeing Jaskier without his glamour on and in his own clothes, not simply naked or in hand me downs. Currently he wore a nearly translucent chemise under a silk blue button down that had half of its buttons undone. His skin tight jeans did nothing to hide his, ahem, assets, and to top off the look golden rings adorned both hands and he wore a single hoop earring. Suffice to say Geralt was spending a concerning amount of energy firmly telling his cock to behave. 

As they reach a turn Geralt is pulled out of his argument with said cock as he hears a whizz through the air and, without thinking, snags an arrow that was aiming straight to his heart. Pulling out a knife Geralt braces himself for another attack but soon finds a body thrown before him. Before he can shove the foolish elf away from him Jaskier calls out with annoyance, “Renfri, what have I said about ‘ask first shoot later’?” 

Out of the shadows emerges a woman whose glare could kill a man. And unfortunately it was currently aimed at Geralt. Arms spread protectively before Geralt Jaskier says firmly, “He is under my protection. Stand down.” Geralt only barely stops his jaw from dropping as Renfri snarls at Jaskier before slowly lowering her bow. And here Geralt thought he couldn’t be more attracted to the elf. Who was this man? 

Preening, Jaskier turns and fusses over Geralt’s clothes and hair muttering to himself. Taking a deep breath he sends Geralt a tentative smile. “I probably should have planned and warned you about that,” he says sheepishly. All Geralt does in response is growl and his disgruntlement grows when Jaskier only rolls his eyes at him like he is nothing but a temperamental puppy. 

Hooking his arm with Geralt's, Jaskier starts strolling through the corridor with his head high. “Anyone who messes with you will have to go through me,” he proclaims haughtily. Geralt was getting the sneaking suspicion that this is something most people would avoid. 

Adrenaline fading, Geralt shifts subtly closer to Jaskier, craving the warmth and comfort emanating from the elf. Clearly he wasn’t subtle enough if the fond smile and gentle nudge from Jaskier was anything to go by. 

As Renfri falls into step with Jaskier she hisses, “You brought the butcher to our home? Filavandrel will have your head.” 

Tossing his head with a huff Jaskier declares, “He wouldn’t dare.” Watching him with bemusement Geralt couldn’t tell if Jaskier was that powerful in this community or simply a fool.

_A fool_ Geralt determines with a mental sigh. When they entered a small room with nothing but a desk or chair, Jaskier proclaimed, “Filavandrel! I bring to you Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf!” Before Geralt could wonder at the new moniker or even realized what was happening-disconcerting to say the least given what he is-he found himself in a similar position as what he put Jaskier in days earlier. 

Though blood begins to trickle down his neck from where a dagger is currently pressed against him, Geralt stares at the elf before him placidly, hands to his side despite the urge to reach for his knives. Keen eyes scrutinize his face and Geralt feels in his bones that this man could sense a lie from a mile away. A steady hand still holding Geralt in place, Filavandrel ignores Jaskier’s protests and narrows his eyes. “Why do you dare come here?” he demands with a hardened voice. 

Staring right back unflinchingly Geralt replies steadily, “I wish to be free. I wish for all of us to be free.” Refusing to wince even as the dagger is pressed harder at his throat, Geralt wonders vaguely if this is where his path ends. Between death and his continued service under Calanthe and her minions, Geralt would gladly take the first option. 

Silence stretches on as the two beings continue to assess each other. Finally, Filavandrel speaks again with a curious tilt of his head. “Who gave you such bruises Witcher? It must take some power to put you at someone’s mercy.” 

Tempted to make a biting remark about his current predicament, Geralt swallows it down and admits the truth. “My captors,” he rumbles. Closing his eyes Geralt steels himself before opening them again and gazing at Filavandrel fiercely. “I have worked for MI6 for decades since the new laws have passed. I accepted this as my destiny until I met Jaskier and he promised me freedom.” 

“Foolish boy,” Filavandrel barks, glaring at the other elf and causing Jaskier to cower in his wake. 

“Leave off!” Geralt shouts, his temper finally getting the best of him. “He just wants to help. And I want to help you too.” 

All too knowing eyes turn back to Geralt and roam across his face with interest, reassessing. Attempting to school his face back to a calm mask, Geralt dreads what his few words gave away. Chuckling, Filavandrel pulls the dagger away from Geralt’s neck. “Seems our little lark has gotten to you too, eh?” He smirks. 

Refusing to add to the leader’s amusement and bristling at the insinuation made by the word “too”, Geralt simply grunts, willing himself not to blush. In a burst of blue, Jaskier clamps himself to Geralt, whining as he tries to wipe off the blood still trickling down Geralt’s neck. “I’m so sorry my wolf! I honestly thought we would give you a better reception,” Jaskier frets with a bite of his lip. 

Gazing into those worried sky blue eyes, Geralt can only hum in response as his heart clenches painfully at the tenderness Jaskier offers and the sound of this new moniker on the elf's lips. Gods. He’s survived centuries not needing nor wanting anyone. And yet this bubbly elf has stumbled into his life and blown apart his defenses like wind on clouds. 

He has numbed himself from his own needs and wants for so long, for it was the only way to survive his servitude. Now the ice around his heart is starting to melt away and for the first time in quite awhile, Geralt finds himself gripped with fear. He doesn’t know what will be coming next but there is one thing he knows for certain: he will die before he allows any harm to come to his lark.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! All mistakes are my own. Feel free to write any suggestions for where you would like the series to lead to next, what characters you would like to see, etc.


End file.
